


Muffins' Miscellaneous Dragon Age Drabbles

by nuclearmuffins



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Male-Female Friendship, Meet the Family, Multi, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2020-03-05 07:00:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18823510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuclearmuffins/pseuds/nuclearmuffins
Summary: A collection of drabbles I consider too miniscule to be works on their own, usually shorter than 300 words, typically featuring the three doofus mages who saved the world - Aliena Surana, Maura Hawke, and Gabriel Lavellan. Mostly written for the lovely folks on r/dragonage's Saturday Writing Threads or the Discord server.A constant WIP.





	1. She took a sip

**Author's Note:**

> Written May 4th, 2019. Original Prompt: 100 word challenge - "She took a sip"

_**Aliena Surana, 9:36 Dragon** _

The peppermint tea had been freshly made, steam still rising from the mug in swirls. To avoid burning her tongue Aliena took small sips, finally letting the much-needed calm wash over her. She let her eyelids knit shut, the corners of her lips curled up, not yet a true smile.

At the sound of Alistair’s approaching footsteps, she opened her eyes again, eyelashes fluttering open as if from sleep. Slowly, a wider smile crossed her lips, that expression she reserved just for him.

Silently, he came to sit by her side, his broad hand coming to rest on her smaller knee, and she playfully nudged him with her foot. The little things she did, only around him. No words were necessary between them. Everything that had needed to be said had already been, long ago, when they were younger, more cautious, maybe afraid.

“I love you” seemed woefully inadequate between them now. They were each other’s _home_.

 

**_Maura Hawke, 9:34 Dragon_ **

With a confused smile towards her usually sullen friend, Maura accepted the Aggregio Fenris had extended to her. She took a light sip, letting the taste linger in her mouth. She'd never been particularly fond of wine, though joining the nobility had meant having to accept glasses filled to the brim with the stuff with a tacked-on smile constantly. But it was Fenris, the broodiest elf in Kirkwall offering, and she would take it if only for the novelty.

A quick thought flashed in her mind of how Mother would be clucking her tongue if she knew her daughter was drinking straight from the bottle like it held common ale. She chased the thought away with a longer, more drawn out swallow of the vintage.

"I thought you avoided talking about this?” she raised one brow, placing the bottle down on the table with a soft  _clunk._

Fenris gave her a rare smile, oddly warm and accommodating. "Not on special occasions. Do you want to hear it?”

If you'd told either one of them they would eventually come to call each other friends when they'd met, they both would have just laughed at the absurdity of the very notion, but here he was, fully ready to confide in her. A _mage_ , of all people. She grinned as she sat opposite him. "I’ve got time."

 

_**Gabriel Lavellan, 9:41 Dragon** _

Gabriel could have sworn his alcohol tolerance had once been higher, but fatherhood seemed to have dulled that particular edge. He took only a brief swallow from the cup, careful not to bring himself over that precarious barrier into drunkenness (he did not need his daughters to see him in that sorry state, especially as their last sight of him before he left for what could be months), before passing the dandelion wine over to Fen’an.

She rolled her eyes at the weight of the still mostly-full cup in her hands before taking first a sip, then a gulping mouthful of the wine. Summer-sweet with a light sting, the Clan specialty. Sighing and leaning back, she looped an arm around his shoulders - made just a little awkward by their height difference. Gabriel had gotten taller than Deshanna when he was just thirteen, then taller than almost every other member in the Clan by the time he was sixteen. “Creators, I’ll miss you, Gabriel. I can’t believe Mamae is still going through with this.”

His stomach quietly churned at the thought of what lay ahead of him at the Conclave. But Deshanna was the Keeper, he was her First, and her word was his duty.

He could only give his best friend a half-smile. “I’ll miss you too, Fen.”


	2. Cullen Meets the Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Freeform. Originally written April 6th, 2019.

As Commander of the Inquisition, Cullen has faced more danger than most have in their entire lives these last few months. He has beseiged ancient fortresses, commanded his men against demons, survived Orlesian balls... So why are his palms sweating so much right this moment?

Sitting opposite him is a pale, ashen-haired elf, with one leg crossed over the other, leaning back in his (much larger, plush, likely picked out to be deliberately intimidating) chair. The Inquisitor. Gabriel Lavellan.

The man whose orders he follows.

The man whose younger sister he has been seeing.

The man fixing him with a certain _look_ he can't quite put his finger on.

His fingers are steepled, his brows knit together, his mouth twisted into half a smirk, half a frown. What exactly _is_ that expression? Contempt? Glee? Contemptuous glee? Whatever it is, Eirene's brother, the Lord Inquisitor Gabriel Lavellan, sizing him up like one of the prisoners sent to him for judgement (or like a lamb to the slaughter, there wasn't much difference anyways) sends a distinct chill down his spine.

Beside him, almost defiantly clasping his hand, Eirene blows a lock of brown hair out of her eyes. "Gabriel, do you really have to do this?" He could practically hear the roll of her eyes in her voice, with a distinct lack of the awe or reverent fear most usually spoke to Gabriel with. "You've known Cullen for months."

"You haven't given me the opportunity to be a proper big brother in the past decade. This might be my only chance."

Cullen rubs his face with his hand. Maker, he still can't believe this is happening to him. "Andraste's ashes, let's just get this over w-"

"Silence! You will only speak when addressed,  _shemlen_ ," Gabriel barks, but there's a giddy gleam to his eyes and the tone of barely clamped down laughter in his voice. He has an unmistakable feeling that he might not be leaving this meeting with all his body parts intact. Or alive, even.

"He's enjoying this, isn't he?" he mutters under his breath to her.

"Far too much," Eirene whispers back.


	3. A Conundrum of Noses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written 05/26/19 in a particularly gushy mood.

“You know, this is why I prefer sleeping in your quarters,” Alistair muttered into Aliena’s hair. “Every time we sleep here in my room, I feel very… judged.”

Aliena, with that little frown and those scrunched-up brows she always had whenever she came across a particularly difficult conundrum, lifted her head off his chest and directed her eyes to where he was looking. A portrait of a woman hung on the wall opposite them, staring intently with eyes of oil and pigment - perhaps not _at them_ , but he felt very _watched_.

“Your grandmother, I think. The Rebel Queen Moira. You’ve got her nose.” One hand reached up to poke his nose, teasing.

He furrowed his brows. “Do I really? Is my nose really that… _big?_ ”

“It’s not that big! I think it’s…” she trailed off, her head coming to rest in the nook of his arm.

“You’re pausing. It’s terrible, isn’t it? Truly a monstrosity of a nose.”

She laughed into his side. “It’s not _monstrous!_ I think it has… dignity. Yes. It’s a _dignified_ nose. Stately, even. Fit for a king. My nose is so much worse.” The nose in question wrinkled. Ena had always thought her nose was too disproportionately large for her face, but he loved it. It gave her a uniqueness.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” he pouted. “It’s enormous. And terrible.”

She smiled, smoothing the fabric over the curve of her belly. “Well, you’ll be able to see for yourself in a few months, in any case.”


	4. Broken Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written January 3rd, 2020. Original prompt: 100 word drabble, Broken Family.
> 
> From the perspectives of 3 characters - Jaime Cousland, Maura Hawke, and Quentin.

There are no bodies to bury, but Jaime digs anyways. He should have done this months ago, with the horrors fresh and the wound raw, but he hadn’t been hurting yet. No time to, with the Blight and darkspawn coming. But their murderer has been slain, his heart still hollow, yet they are not at peace.

One for Mother.

One for Father.

One for Oriana.

One for Oren.

In the soils of Redcliffe, hundreds of miles away from a home he can't return to, Jaime buries what is left of his heart along with his family.  _Wait for me. I’m coming, too._

* * *

The accusations go unspoken between the two of them. Maura smothers her grief in the smuggling work and goes days without speaking to her brother, wishing she had the other one, the one he let die here instead. Carver fills the cavernous silences with stony glares and wraps his heart in thorns, all the while realizing how much losing a twin feels like losing a part of him.

 _“You let Garrick die,”_  she doesn’t say.

 _“You couldn’t save Bethany,”_  he doesn’t snarl back.

All the while, their mother watches, too paralyzed in grief to mend the rift in her family.

* * *

He wakes on the street with her name on his lips. He has not spoken anything else since the morning when he found her, and all he can do is repeat it, over and over again. A whisper.  _Revka._  A murmur.  _Revka._  A scream.  _Revka!_

What have they done to us, my love? What have they done to our beautiful family, our children?

He is barely able to bring himself to his feet.  _Home. They’ll be waiting for me there-_

Quentin shambles, weakened legs, throat a bone-dry croak. He wants to hear their voices again, even if only an echo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why that is indeed a hadestown reference how did you know


End file.
